#me: oh I'll just write a short drabble

[agere-mechs]

as a Drabble concept or even just a normal headcanon…

One of the crew regressing while doing something like gambling with the others or playing cards and trying to be sneaky and pretend to be big. everyone else absolutely knows they’re small but are playing along and letting them win bc the regressor is so cute

ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE...it's SO obvious that they're regressed, but what's everyone else going to do, make the baby upset? Absolutely not (although I'm sure Jonny is not above arguing with a toddler for beating him at a card game)

I've already started working on a drabble for this, but it's already ending up longer than I expected it to, so hopefully I'll have it finished soon! All I'll say is that it involves a DEFINITELY very big Ivy DEFINITELY knowing how to play blackjack. :)

[nocentis]

Honeysuckle

⚶ ┆ Between his teeth and beneath his nails, an airy fruit light as love is bitten down to the rind. Even with his mouth full of pulp he finds himself desperate for her taste.

A sigh echoed and swallowed, kept locked in his chest like a secret. He held his breath until it burned; savored every hitch and every hum of her sacred song. Each curse spoken like a prayer, like praise; wept like gratitude wrenched raw from the soul — raked clean and spit out like the pit of a cherry. When he's forced to breathe, she is the hallowed riptide, and he would be blessed to drown in her lush.

Ripe as a peach at the crown of her cheeks; soft red flush so sticky sweet. Another of her colors comes to life in his mind. One shade closer to the divine.

⚶ ┆ Woven together like lace under the pale light of a waning moon. He can't be sure where he ends and she begins. She pierces straight through him like he belongs to her, and in some capacity, he knows that he does. There is no room left in his heart for desire of this nature. It has reached its bounds and collapsed inward on itself — a singularity the size of her that takes of these moments and stretches them infinitely, ever deeper, ever denser; inescapable.

Too much would never be enough and yet he counts every falling grain of timesand, tallies them up, and says his Hail Mary's in correspondence. Blessed is he for these hands to hold her, for these eyes to view her, for this mouth to speak her name. Blessed is he for the breath and the bread, the water, the whine.

Under his breath, to no god in particular, he issues his thanks.

"You're still awake." Her voice is strained by the small hours. The calm is sweeping her away and yet she remains afloat, waiting for the rise and fall of his chest to slow before she sinks into sleep. "Your train leaves early. You should rest."

His own voice is gravelly, thick with syrup, when he attempts to quell, "There will be another train. There is always another train."

There is nothing more important than this — her head on his chest and his fingers in her hair, scarlet as the sun's kiss and softer than silk.

She shifts so that she can look at him, and the nightglow catches the honey of her eye. "You should rest," she reiterates, and though she aims to chastise, he can feel her care bleeding through her touch.

"I will," he promises, though he chooses not to specify when. "I'm not ready for tomorrow."

He feels her hum before he hears it. Gentle as a lullaby, it dims his vision, and he finds a brief reprieve inside his eyelids.

"You're ready," she assures, succinct as ever.

"You're right," he concedes through a sigh, "I don't want this to end."

"Then don't end it," she slides her hand into his, weaves their fingers together in an airtight knit, "Water it. Let it grow. Keep it alive while we're apart."

He responds first through a light squeeze, a bit of humor trapped in his chest, and he can't deny that, "There are some things even I can't kill."

[jayparked]

hii!! congrats on 1k! ^^ can i perhaps get 47 + 75 with jungwon? <33

warnings: overstimulation, established relationship, rough sex, possessive/dom!jungwon, bathroom sex, semi public sex, dirty talk

wc: 516

"jungwon, please! it's too much!" you cry out, tears staining your cheeks while your boyfriend relentlessly pounds into your pussy. he has you sitting on top of the bathroom sink in some random person's house, the music from the party downstairs vibrating the walls around you. it's the one thing you try to focus on in order to hang onto your sanity. jungwon has already made you come twice now and he's showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

he watches the spot where your bodies connect carefully, lips parted slightly as he pants with each hardened thrust. his tongue pokes out to swipe along his bottom lip before he looks into your eyes, his own cloudy with determination.

"not stopping," his words come out ragged as he continues to put everything he has into each thrust, "someone else thinks they can fuck you better? im gonna make you come so many times on my cock that you'll never doubt that i'm the only one who can do this to you. only i get to ruin you like this, you hear me?"

"wh-? what are you talking about?" your eyelids are fluttering now and you're desperate to ignore the way your bruised walls clench around him.

"heard some guy talking about you, eye fucking the hell out of you too. said he could probably make you come in less than five minutes," jungwon scoffs, "well i made you come in one minute. and i bet i can do it faster if we were at home." a darkness flicks across his iris's and suddenly he's gripping you even tighter, moving your legs higher up on his waist.

"i want you to scream my name," growling, jungwon grabs your hips and pulls your body in pace to his thrusts, each one harder than the last and it's a miracle you can even understand what he's saying with the way you're so fucked out.

"th-there are people outside this door. you want everyone to know we're having sex?"

"well, this isn't about them now is it?" he grows more aggressively, lips now attached to your collarbone, nipping and sucking on your flesh until pretty little red marks appear.

you try to hold on, you really do. but jungwon lifts you off the counter and holds you against his body, using his upper body strength to bounce you on his cock while he leans against the bathroom wall. the squelching is getting louder as your ability to hang on dissipates.

"fuck! yes! jungwon right there! oh my god jungwon please!" you dig your nails into his shoulders and flex your leg muscles around his waist, his pace still not letting up.

you were doing just fine until suddenly, jungwon's voice drops to a lower register, his tone even and demanding, "that's it baby. tell everyone i'm the only one who can ever make you feel this good."

suddenly, without any warning, you're releasing on his cock once again, his name leaving your lips with a scream that rips through the house right as the music goes silent between changing songs.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[seelestia]

✧ a healer's touch.

although more than capable of healing himself, mydeimos finds no harm in seeking out medical help for convenience — and when he does, it's almost always and only from you. { 1.2k words }

#STARRING. mydei & healer!reader (gn).

#GENRE. slice of life, fluff, established friendship with feelings.

#NOTES. set pre-3.1, mentions of a minor injury & treating it (pls forgive inaccuracies!), one brief instance of close proximity, mentions of phainon as a tool of banter which leads to jealous mydei, reader is a bit of a gremlin & a tease.

#THOUGHTS. my first try writing for amphoreus charas and it's mydei !!! :-) bcs the concept of him w/ a healer!reader is so hdhshfhs. this was also supposed to be shorter but i got carried away. pls enjoy reading this short drabble! 𖹭

✶ masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, mar 2025. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own. reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Befitting of the Kremnoan pride he bears, it comes off as no surprise that MYDEI’s gaze is closely accompanied by smoldering heat that can scald those who dare to catch a mere glimpse.

But as he stands before you now with a hand over his wounded flesh, whatever flame that persistently lingers ablaze within his sunset eyes seems to have faded into something else... something more akin to avoidance.

Avoiding your gaze, more specifically.

At this point, the entrance to your small clinic might as well be considered a close friend of Mydei’s thanks to the many times he has paid this place a visit. For as often as his feet have stepped here though, it still gets annoyingly difficult to take even a single step inside when you're looking at him like that.

“This is the third time this week,” you let out a deep sigh. You aren't a fool. Obviously, the smooth cut of his injury and the prior ruckus you heard outside point to one thing: another argument-turned match between him and Phainon over... anything, really.

The disappointment in your voice doesn't bother to conceal itself and its presence alone is enough to cause the mighty warrior to flinch slightly. He doesn't question why the thought of disappointing you stings almost as much as his wounds do.

The pen in your hand has been put down, scribbled footnotes about patients are set aside, and your mind forsakes your papers in favor of addressing the looming presence at your door. Looming in appearance but not so much in attitude with the way he still refuses to look you in the eye.

"...I know,” Mydei grumbles. No resistance and no hostility, only acknowledgement towards this particular lecture of yours that he has heard several times before.

“I might have to start using webs as gauzes in the future,” you shake your head. “You and Phainon are going to be the reason I'll run low on medical supplies one of these days.”

This time, he frowns—a fearsome sight, if it weren't for how familiar you are with it in less than fearsome settings—not at you but at the issue proposed by your statement. Mydei glances around to scan your workspace and although it lasts briefly, his conclusion seems firm as he finally looks you in the eyes.

“...I'll bring it up with Aglaea next time,” he crosses his arms against his chest. Carefully, of course. Even with immortality running through his veins and his gradual numbness to the prickly touch of pain, he still can't risk getting a sharp glare from you for being inconsiderate towards his “bodily misery”.

There are times you think that Mydei can be considerate in his own way, though. Just like right now. “Oh, I jest,” you can't help the way your eyes soften around the edges. “I still have leftover supplies from the last time you did that. I'd rather not trouble her again.”

“Well then,” you quickly usher him to the empty chair near your desk before any sort of protest can escape from his mouth. “Allow me to take a look?”

He clicks his tongue—either at your act of rushing him or refusing his offer or both of them—but doesn't protest. Taking a step forward is already enough to indicate his agreement. One, two, three, four. . . exactly four steps from the doorway to reach the empty chair, a rhythm that Mydei doesn't even realize he's gotten used to.

You don't waste time getting to work as soon as he takes a seat. Following your routine, your eyes meticulously examine the wound on his skin to assess its qualities. The silence doesn't have the opportunity to stretch long as you pipe up with a particularly, frequently asked question.

“So, who won this time?” you hum as your hands deftly grab a few items off your shelf, moving on to cleaning his wound.

“Ha, as if you even need to ask,” Mydei proclaims haughtily. It's never not amusing to witness his inherent boldness resurface... after getting nagged, that is.

“Let me guess. Phainon won?” you deduce, but it's less of a deduction and more of an attempt to get on Mydei's nerves. The offended look he gives you afterwards is the exact reward you wish for.

“Don't try to be funny—” he shoots you a scowl, then hisses when you dab a damp washcloth to the area around his wound.

“Worth a try,” you smile amusedly before offering him a small apology. There is a tinge of guilt in your conscience for not giving him a heads-up about it. Cries of pain are never a melody to a healer's ears, after all. You direct your focus back to cleaning his injury, your movements more gentle: “Thankfully, your wound this time isn't as deep as your usual ones. The bleeding is also lessening faster than normal which I assume to be your ability at work,” you observe out loud.

“...Just say it's a curse,” he sighs. “No need to sugarcoat it, healer.”

“Different interpretations,” you counter.

“Whatever,” he relents, an indifference that is betrayed by his flushing cheeks. Hm, is it the heat? You're very sure all the windows in your clinic are ajar, though.

“Let me take one more look,” you scooch a little closer to inspect his injury again. The sudden shift in proximity effectively throws Mydei's senses into overdrive. He can quite literally smell the fragrance that sticks to your clothes with you this close. It only lasts for a few moments, however, and it's when you pull away that he realizes he's been holding his breath.

“Hey, you look like you're burning up,” you frown as you give him his space back. “A wound accompanied by a fever could indicate—”

“I'm fine,” his response is hastier than he would've preferred. Not enough to preserve the pieces of dignity he feels he has lost just now, but he can pick them up just fine.

“Alright then, would you like a kiss after?”

(Now, he really has to pick those pieces back up with his own bare hands.)

“I— what?”

Mydei looks at you as if you've lost your mind, as if the black tide has materialized out of nowhere to help you accomplish that.

“After I wrap up your wound,” you explain, trying your utmost best not to keel over from laughter right then and there. You know what you're doing. “Children ask me for them all the time. Says it helps with their recovery.”

Mydei can't even choose which aspect of this absolute incredulity he should address first: the logic (or lack thereof) in the sentence itself or the sheer audacity you have to ask him that. Amidst his loss for a response he deems proper, the only thing he can manage to utter is this: “Never suggest something so preposterous ever again.”

You ignore the horror in his voice in favor of fueling the flames a little more. “Not even to Phainon?” you ask, just a tiny bit goading.

“Especially him,” he snarls, “unless you want me to hurl him at death's door myself.”

“Duly noted.”

Ironically, Mydeimos thinks you are going to be the death of him someday. If that's even possible.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

— THANK YOU FOR READING! another reminder: please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

[npookie0]

HUEHHEE HELLO DEAR MOOTIEEEE I've come for the saja boys x chronically Ill reader!! Orrr a poc reader if ya want! (≡^∇^≡) lowkey self indulgent but your writing is so yummy 💔

Demonic Care

A lover boy has to take care of his chronically ill partner and cheer them up. Which Saja Boy will be the most helpful?

contains: reader with pots, very headcanony personalities for the saja boys, these are going to be drabbles </3

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Heads up, I'll say the short version of what kind of people are the saja boys to me

Romance - hopeless romantic, easily smitten with people, flirt, that man is a total fool when he's in love I fear </3

Abby - high ego, very (almost over) confident, kind of stupid but a lil sweet (and cocky) jock type of guy

Mystery - quiet, but expresses himself through body language and in music, closed off and very short social battery

Baby - cunning, cocky, chill unbothered king, childlish

Jinu - a leader by nature, silly dude (please that man made a choice when running and giggling like that...), you know that he means it when he's not doing something for his own benefit, understanding, but also a liar </3

Jinu

words [ 412 ]

The Saja Boys concert was close to wrapping up, the boys had to sing the fan favourite song, say their goodbye and leave. The atmosphere was warm, energetic. Fans were shouting, singing along, waving their light sticks and recording the stage.

You stood between the fans, in the first row, holding the railings with your hands. Your body grown tired over time, you stood for far too long, you were close to passing out. But you had to be there, had to see the concert from the stands.

You couldn't just sit on backstage and watch the boys perform in front of the whole crowd when you had the chance to watch Jinu's face in full view from where you stood now.

The concert came to an end and the Saja's manager came up to you to help you get backstage. You told them that you don't need a whole escort, but their response was "Jinu asked me to do it, I couldn't say no." You sighed and nodded in understanding.

"Hey aegiya!" Suddenly someone hugged you from behind once you were in the boys band's lounge area .

"Ugh, Jinu~! You started me." You replied and turned around, freeing yourself from your boyfriend's embrace.

"Haha sorry, sorry." He replied, scratching the back of his neck and laughing awkwardly. "Oh jeez, you look pale. You should sit down."

You couldn't protest, because soon your darling boyfriend sat you down on the sofa and told one of the other boys to go grab you some water.

"Jinu, I'm okay, I promise." You said, but he clearly wasn't buying it and maybe he was in the right this time. Your vision went black for a second and it take a bit to go back to normal.

He crossed his arms. "Mmm, no, I'm not buying that. I saw you in the crowd, you looked like you would faint in any moment." He exhaled and crouched in front of you. "Listen, I know that you want to be everything to support you, but please don't just throw yourself into a potentially dangerous situation for you."

You looked away. "Sorry Jinu, you''re right... I guess." You looked back at him. "I didn't mean to stress you more."

He chuckled and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "It's okay, just be careful, yeah?" He ruffled your hair and stood up. "Let's go home, Abby found some movie he wants to watch and you're invited too."

Romance

words [ 446 ]

The last thing you remember before fainting was Romance's panicked face when he caught you, then you lost consciousness. You didn't know how much time exactly passed between your collapsing and Romance getting you back to your apartament, but after regained consciousness saw Romance holding your hand to his forehead and murmuring to himself.

"Hey, no need to summon anything for me to wake up, stupid."

When you said these words Romance immediately looked up and practically crushed you with his body when he hugged you. "Jagiya! I'm glad that you're okay. You were out for so long." He said and before you could answer, he suddenly pulled away. "Do you need anything? Water, food, medicine?"

You looked at him a little stunned and then you started giggling, Romance titled his head, confused, but relieved that you felt well enough to laugh.

"What's so funny, jagiya?" He asked, leaning closer to you.

You took a while to answer, your laughter made it impossible. "You remind me of a puppy Romy." You giggled when you imagined him with dog ears.

"A puppy, huh? Well, maybe I'm a lovesick puppy for you, baby." He kissed you, but before you could kiss him back, he stood up, a smirk spread across his face when he saw your pout. "Ah, we can kiss later, now we need to take care of you. I was really scared when you waited so suddenly in the store."

"Boohoo, I want kisses now." You stood up from the bed very slowly, leaning on the wall in front of you when the black spots started showing in your vision.

Romance noticed it and was quick to your side, holding you by back and hand in case you fainted again. "Okay, let's go slowly. No need to rush." He said and slowly guided you to the kitchen.

You sat down on a chair in your kitchen and watch as Romance poured you water. "Drink up, you need it." He said, placing the glass in front of you.

You picked it up. "Thank you mr. specialist of human health." You said teasingly, looking at the patterns on his arm and drank the whole glass at once, you were really thirsty.

"Maybe I'm a demon, but I was a human before if you forgot." He huffed. "You're lucky I love you, you silly human."

"I think it's the other way around, but let it be your way." You stuck out your tongue at him.

"Oh, look who's feeling like a little tease after their fainted at my dance practice."

"Oh, shut up and give me more water."

He smirked proudly. "See? I told you that you'd need water."

Abby

words [ 552 ]

You were in the dance practice room, dancing to Soda Pop all alone. You knew that you shouldn't do it, not with the danger of fainting because you're straining your body. You should at least wait for Abby to wake up and watch over you. But you had to dance, this was one of your biggest passions in the past. It wasn't just a hobby, it was your career, your everything.

And now?

You could barely stand for longer than ten minutes without people fussing over you collapsing, you had to stand up slowly or you'll feel dizzy, your heart hurt from how fast it beat.

You hated this, hated this turn your life took. Hated how sad and colorless it became. But then, you heard that annoyingly catchy song one day and bumped into an extremely egoistical boys band member. You met your current boyfriend, Abby.

He was the most self confident person you've ever met, but you had to admit that in all his self love he was right. Fortunately, there was more to him than his muscles, voice and high ego. Abby proved himself to be most devoted, loving and a tiny bit stupid, boyfriend ever.

He didn't make a big fuss out of your pots, when you were feeling particularly weak he would give you piggy back rides and say "I'm jus' showing off my strength, it's not cause you feel bad or anything." And you were thankful for it.

Though he still wasn't so fond of you dancing. He tried his best not to show it so you wouldn't feel like even he sees you just for your illness.

That's why you were dancing in secret, trying to go back to normal in any way, maybe your career was over, but you could still try to do it as your hobby from time to time.

"Take a big bite, want another bite, yeah"

You froze when you heard Abby's singing right next to you. You turned you head to the side and there he was, wearing nothing but his pyjama sweatpants and slippers, he was dancing to the choreography.

"Why'd ya stop? It's not like we're doing anything bad." He said with a wink.

You paused the song and looked at him in confusion. "You won't stop me?"

"Nah, there's no point in stopping you now, aein. You've been sneaking out to dance for a while and you would do it again if I tried."

So he knew...

You felt embarrassed after being found out, you never wished for him to know that.

"Hey." He titled your head up and looked into your eyes. "It's okay if you want to dance, I would never stop you, not like you would let me anyway." He chuckled. "You're feisty, like a tiger. I love that about you, but please just tell me that you want to dance and I'd dance with you." He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "I may not be super great about this comfort thing or taking care of someone, but I know that you're ill and I don't want something to happen to you while I'm asleep." His serious expression was soon replaced by a cheerful beam.

"Now, let's continue. It's not every day that you have a one-on-one dance session with Abby Saja."

Mystery

words [ 495 ]

You were looking through the lipsticks that Olive Young had in its offer, you had to find cosmetics for the Saja Boys to use now that they had their rebrand from cute songs to more darker ones.

Ever since performing Your Idol after the Idol Awards, they decided that it was the vibe they want to go into and you, as their biggest supporter, stylist and almost a manager, said that it may be a good idea.

So now, you were on make up supplies duty, guarded by your boyfriend, Mystery, in case your illness was triggered and you would feel worse because of walking and standing for too long.

Though you mostly agreed on Myst going with you because you needed someone to carry your bags.

"Hmm, Myst~, come here." You quietly called out for him to get to your side.

"What is it?" He replied, but instead of giving him an answer you gently grabbed him by his chin with one hand and with the other you applied black lipstick to his lips.

"Hm. Yeah I guess this one will work." You murmured to yourself. "We'll grab five of these and then we'll look at the eyeshadows here." You announced, though it was still mostly a note to yourself. You put the five lipsticks to the basket and turned around to go to the alley with eyeshadows.

You didn't notice that your body grew weaker after a few hours of walking, not until you turned around way too fast and almost fell on a shelf because you started to feel dizzy, if it wasn't for mystery catching you it would be over for you.

"Nae sarang, be careful." He said, keeping you steady with his arm wrapped around your waist.

You looked up at him and blinked a few times until your vision was back to normal. "Ah, sorry Mysty, I think I overdid myself today haha." You leaned your forehead against his shoulder.

Your exhaustion gotten back to you, your legs felt unsteady and your mind was still dizzy from all that walking.

"Oh, come with me." Mystery said suddenly.

"Hm?"

He didn't answer, which wasn't that surprising, he had a tendency to speak only in short sentences or not speak at all unless he had to. That's why he got the name he has, you supposed.

"Here." He said and guided you to sit down on a fluffy seat in the corner of the store.

"But what about our shopping? I can't do it if I sit here." You said and tugged on the fabric of his blazer.

"You said that you wanted all of us to have dark purple eye shadow right?" He asked and you nodded in answer. "I will get you dark purple eye shadow, so just rest. Please."

You sighed. You couldn't fight him when his voice was so soft and calming. "Okay, just mind the prices." You replied after pondering on the idea for a second.

Baby

words [ 493 ]

"Baby I told you that I'm fine." You groaned when your beloved demonic boyfriend sat you down on the sofa.

You just came back from the aquarium and even with how fun it was, it involved a lot of walking and standing and with your condition it was a very challenging activity to go through.

So now, after returning home, your boyfriend who just a moment ago was chasing fish and begging you to let him feed one, now was forcing you to sit down.

"Nuh uh, we've been walking for two hours." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, well I won't always end up fainting."

"You felt dizzy, idiot." He poked your forehead and sat down on the sofa next to you. "And besides, you promised me that you'd watch a movie with me."

"Ugh, I did?"

"Yup, you said that you would if I did a solo cover os Soda Pop and upload it, I did." He said with a grimace of his face at the mention of singing Soda Pop alone.

You chuckled. "Ah right, that. Alright. Let me go grab something to snack on then and we can-" You couldn't even stand up because Baby pushed you back down onto the sofa.

"No, no, no. You sit, I grab snacks."

And like that he went to the kitchen, you rolled your eyes and only shouted to him to bring you your favourite snack and grabbed the remote.

While you were scrolling through the streaming service, Baby came back with a tray of snacks and drinks. Most of them were sweets.

"Will you at least be so gracious to share some with me?" You asked, raising an eyebrow, amused by the sight of Baby having to stop himself from eating everything at once.

He turned to look at you. "I guess I can share some, I heard that sugar is good for giving energy or something."

"It is and isn't, but thanks for the thought." You smiled and moved closer to him.

"So what are we watching?' You asked after a while of scrolling through the animation and cartoons category.

"Something about fish." He said and opened a pack of gummy bears.

You giggled. "Oh god, you really are obsessed with fish. Okay then, Finding Nemo it is." You picked the movie and clicked play.

You two watched the movie in silence, until you broke it.

"Hey, Baby?"

"Hm? What's up Yeobo?" He asked, his eyes not moving from the TV screen.

"Thanks for looking out for me. it means a lot, even if I'm not the best at showing it." You said, fidgeting with your soda can.

He turned away from the screen, looking at you with slightly parted lips. "Oh, um, yeah no problem. I'm just trying to stop ya from fainting, y'know." He mumbled and looked back at the TV, though you saw that blush on his cheeks even if he tried to hide it.

Second Kpop Demon Hunters work done!

Wahh these stupid guys excite me >w< but I would love some Huntr/x asks too ;)

See you soon my KDH readers I gotta feed my other readers too <3

(play Killer Chat!, gluttony gods or seraphim slum if you're interested in the other stories I post here <3)

Nathan

[breakmeoff]

goddess of the desert

featuring: bang chan x fem!reader warnings: swearing, SMUT: unprotected p in v, creampie. MDNI, 18+ only* word count: 2.1k (i swear one of these days i'll learn how to write an actual drabble lol) synopsis: you come out to the states to surprise chan with a short three day vacation to a remote airbnb in the secluded beauty of joshua tree. the stunning desert landscape relaxes you both enough to enjoy the great outdoors, and each other. note: this is part of the Larie's Libations 200 Followers Celebration. this was a request by my lovely anon reader🙈, whose selection is listed below. for story telling purposes we're going to pretend this was set in the spring and the weather wasn't blazing hot. thank you for reading!

LARIE'S LIBATIONS - Bourbon Orange Crush [Wine] — Bang Chan [Cranberry Juice] — Vacation [Citrus Rind] — Kinks (creampie)

Masterlist

Orchestrating this little surprise trip for Chan had been difficult.  That man was always in control and strict to his schedules, so when his manager told him not to schedule anything for three days between tour stops in L.A. and Arlington, Chan began asking questions.  And per your explicit instruction, his manager told him nothing.

Finally, when you showed up to the second show in L.A., things started to make sense and he stopped fighting it. The day after the concert, you picked up your rental vehicle and drove the three and a half hours to Joshua Tree where you had rented a secluded airbnb in the desert, just for the two of you.

Admittedly, Chan was awful about taking time for himself and forcing himself to relax.  Once you had assured him you’d get him back to civilization and the tour within three days before the next show in Texas, he finally relented and exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

After arriving at the private home down the long dirt drive, the two of you unpacked your groceries and belongings, and Chan went to take a much needed nap.  You on the other hand had eyed the above ground hot tub just outside with an uninterrupted view of the desert. 

About two hours later, Chan awoke alone sprawled out on the king sized bed, peering out the floor to ceiling windows which faced the back.  He pushed himself up sleepily and yawned, watching you climb out of the hot tub and dry yourself off with a large serape patterned towel.

Lord, he’d never get tired of seeing you in a bikini and unaware of how stunning you were.  

With a tired smile, he shifted to push himself off of the bed and in a standing position when he caught you out of the corner of his eye walking towards the outdoor shower just down the path. It wasn’t just your walking that made him pause - it was the way you removed your string bikini, draping them over the makeshift wooden ‘privacy’ fence along with the towel.

Walking over towards the window, he was transfixed, unable to take his eyes off of the scene - the goddess-like creature, baring it all under the rainfall showerhead, immersed in the beauty of the barren landscape surrounding them.  His cock twitched the longer he watched you, swelling under the confines of his sweatpants.

Slipping on a pair of slides, Chan made his way outside quietly and down the path towards the shower.  His movements were methodical and slow, like a bobcat hunting its prey.  Finally approaching the pathetic excuse for a wall, he reached for your towel just as you turned the faucet off and turned around to see him.  

Jumping in surprise, you laughed, pressing your hand to your chest.  “God, you scared me…” 

“Sorry Baby.”  Holding the towel open for you, he tilted his head towards it, inviting you into the warmth of the fabric.  “You looked like you might need a hand,” he teased suggestively, obviously dragging his eyes up and down your naked body. 

Smirking at him, you took the few extra steps towards him and let him wrap the towel around your damp, nude frame.  “Oh, just being a sweetheart and wanting to help me out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Sure… something like that,” he whispered near your ear, kissing your temple as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, ignoring the way your wet hair was now saturating his shirt.  “Let’s go dry you off on the chaise over there,” Chan said, nodding over towards the teak, cushioned lounge chairs just on the other side of the yard, facing out towards the desert.

The heat of the day had finally dissipated and the sun was starting to sink beyond the horizon, swathing the cacti and wild bushes in dark silhouettes.  Letting Chan lead the way, you walked towards the outdoor furniture and after he seated himself first, he pulled you into his lap, right between his legs and with your back against him.

“Thank you for this,” he whispered against your ear, placing a series of soft kisses against the side of your neck once you were settled against him - arms still wrapped around you and the plush towel protecting you from the elements.  “It’s nice to be somewhere quiet, alone.  With just you.”

Placing your hands on his arms, you began rubbing your palms up and down the expanse of them as you smiled.  “I figured you could use a little break.  And maybe some TLC.”

“TLC huh,” he mused, pulling back a little so he could look down to your face.  

Tipping your head back slightly, you turned to make eye contact with him.  “If you’re lucky.”  

Huffing a laugh, he gently tugged the top of your towel down, pretending as if he was going to expose one of your breasts.  “Bold of you to tease wearing nothing but a flimsy towel…” 

Sitting up straighter, you held onto the towel tighter before you shifted your position, perching yourself fully upon his lap and now facing him.  With your legs straddling either side of him, and your arms draped lazily around his shoulders, you gave your hips a slow roll over the front of his sweatpants.  “Guess I should just stop teasing then…” you mumbled, leaning down to press your soft lips against his, melting against him in a gentle, though heated, open mouthed kiss.

Chan groaned against your lips, one of his hands finding the back of your head, cradling it as he tilted his face to further deepen your liplock as the other met your hip, gripping through the fabric of the towel as he guided your exposed core to the soft cotton of his clothed cock below.

“Careful…” he mumbled against your mouth, “we are outside afterall.  Someone might see.”

You laughed gently, pressing your hips harder against him.  “Who is gonna see us?  The javelina?”  With that, you let the towel fall from your body, exposing yourself fully to him and the elements.

Chris’ hooded eyes raked over your figure once before he cursed lowly under his breath, and snaked a hand between your bodies to brush his fingers against your soaked entrance.  “Fuck… already ready for me, Baby?”

Whimpering softly at his gentle touch, you nodded your head and breathed a reply.  “Always…” 

Dropping your hand to his waist, you lifted yourself high enough to tug his sweatpants and boxers down low enough for his thick, veiny cock to spring free.  Your lithe fingertips gripped the base of him, eliciting a low moan from Chris’ lips as he watched you pump your hand up and down his length a few times.  “I need you…” he murmured, nearly desperately.

Guiding the velvety head of his length towards your entrance, you finally lowered yourself back down onto his lap, savoring the intense sensation of him filling you so entirely.  Both of your lips parted in an exhale once he was bottomed out inside of you, and your hands moved back to his shoulders, giving yourself the leverage to slowly move up and down his hardened arousal.

“Shit…” Chris whispered, watching you maneuver your body above him, a hand gripping one of your breasts as the other fell back to your hip, gripping his digits into your flesh. 

Leaning forward, he wrapped his lips around your pert nipple of your other breast, sucking softly against your heated flesh.  Humming a sigh, you slowly began to increase your motions on top of him, tipping your head back and relishing in the feeling of his mouth against your skin.

Chan flicked the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bud before gently nipping at it and tugging the pebbled flesh between his teeth, causing a low moan to come from you.  Chris squinted his eyes closed as you tightened your walls around him, panting against your skin and digging his fingertips further into the flesh of your hip.

Dropping his hand from your other breast, his lips dotted a line of small kisses against your sternum until they wrapped around your opposite nipple, giving it the same worshipping attention as the other.

“Fuck, babygirl… you feel so fucking good,” he moaned, pressing his face against the curve of your breast as he pulled you tighter against himself.  Your speed started to increase, and switched from an up and down motion to swirling your hips in a figure eight.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, arm wrapped tightly around him as you felt yourself clench around him buried deep inside of you.  “I’m close, so close.”

With both hands tightly gripping your waist, Chan anchored his feet on either side of the chair and slipped down just enough to give himself leverage to start fucking up into you from below.  “Give it to me,” he grunted, fingers digging in tight enough to leave bruises.  “Cum for me, all over me baby…” 

Your breathing was becoming more erratic, and you tipped your head forward, locking your eyes onto his as your moans became louder.  “More Channie, more, please…” you begged, breathily, eyebrows knit together as you felt your body start to tense up in his grasp.

“Take it, take it all,” he growled, slamming his hips up into you, mesmerized by the beauty of your blissful facial expression and the way your tits moved above his face.  “Let go, let go now.”

A silent moan slipped from your lips as the tension inside you finally snapped, and your entire body tightened with your release.  Toes curling, fingers digging into the fabric of his tshirt, and eyes hazily focused on his, Chris stuttered his hips with the feeling of you clench so tightly around him and the visual of you falling apart above him.

“F-fuuuuuuck,” he groaned through gritted teeth, keeping your hips grounded down on top of him as he spilled himself inside of your warmth.  “Can’t… can’t stop…” he growled, pressing his forehead against your chest as spurt after spurt erupted inside of you, his hips sporadically bucking underneath you. 

Finally, both of your bodies stilled and you collapsed against him.  Shifting his hands from your hips, one hand returning to the back of your head and the other splaying fully against your back, he rubbed your skin soothingly as you both tried to calm your heavy breathing.  

With a small laugh, you murmured “I think we made a mess… I can feel it.  Everywhere.”  With a low, appreciative growl, Chan sat up with you still around him and shifted to lay you back against the chaise cushion at the foot of the lounge in front of him.  

Now with you laying back in front of him, he looked down to where your bodies met, a thick, creamy white ring encasing his cock as he pulled out of your pussy.  “Look at that…” he cooed, one hand gripping the base of himself, the tip of him still resting just inside your flushed walls.  “Fuck, look at you… all covered in me.”  

Bringing a hand to your face with a small blush, Chan reached up to pull your hand away with a devilish grin, and with his hand wrapped around your wrist, he brought your fingers down to the mess between you.  “Feel it, look what you made me do baby…” 

Leaning up a little, you glanced down to where he had led your hand, your fingertips now coated in the stickiness that was coming out of you. 

Finally pulling himself out of you completely, he smirked as his own fingers reached down to your pussy and gently pushed some of his seed back into your still twitching inner walls.  “Can’t let any of that go to waste,” he mumbled, still mesmerized by the work of art he’d created between your legs.

Reaching for the towel with a cheeky smile on your face, you took note of the way he looked at you in awe.

Just then, you both froze at the eerie, unmistakable howl of a coyote not too far off in the distance.  Chan lifted his eyes to yours and he paused for a second.  “...maybe we should go inside and clean up,” a look of concern now spreading over his features.

“Might be a good idea,” you agreed, shifting to sit up as he tucked himself back into his pants.  With a renewed sense of urgency, Chan grabbed the towel from you, and quickly swept you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style swiftly into the house as you giggled, relaxed and happy in his protective embrace.

my tags: @angel-writes-here @idkimobsessed @queenofdumbfuckery @mfcherry @downingmorphine @pixie-felix @d3kstar @lveegsoi @ebnabi @nebugalaxy @babystay724 @mmarusa @imagine-all-the-imagines @erisuna @beabidoobee @hanniesbubuwife @bbykaixx @riri53 @jinniesgirl @alx-wyjsr @skzswife @hwangjoanna @stephanieeeyang @minnysproutgriffinteddy @jqtsblyth @magicshuhua @loveesiren @szonyix6277 @seungttttop @moontabi

[bloodybreakupscene]

-> 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓.

joaquin torres x reader

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ [desc.] :: a short drabble between you and joaquin, from when you first met, to how it's going.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ [a/n] :: HEEEYYYY it's me after... checks clock... two years?? finally got into writing again soooo expect marvel fics... who's excited for the new daredevil show... and that new spidey show is good too ALSO MARVEL RIVALS–

you slave away on your computer, dragging and dropping files, typing them up, doing whatever with them! god, you didn't think a government job would have you doing so much boring tedious work. you scroll and scroll onwards and it's a wonder your finger hasn't fallen off yet. ‘i guess i can't see president ross doing any of this stuff.’ you comment to yourself.

joaquin looks at you, well, it lingers– okay he's staring. he always does, he can't help it! ever since you started working here he can't stop. he walks by your office everyday since it's on his way to where he usually works. he's talked to you a couple times, did the thing where you nod to each other to acknowledge the other's presence. you even say good morning! that means you guys are like.. close right? at least work friends.

“so.. i went on a mission, couple days ago. pretty good, beat up a couple guys.” he blurts out, body leaning on your doorway, causing you to looking away from your own computer.

“oh really?”

“yeah.” he brags, “you should've been there, even sam was impressed.”

“i would've liked to, during work i don't look anywhere other than this damn computer,” you laugh.”

“y'know maybe, maybe we could–”

“joaquin, need you out front.” sam wilson calls from his comms, the voice of captain america sounding through the speakers.

“i think he needs you.” you smile at him, he smiles back but he's disappointed again, he wanted to ask you out! for coffee or whatever government coworkers do!

joaquin complains to sam about this later, talking about how he ruined his chances and how he needs to “hop off and let him soar” whatever the hell that meant, sam would've gotten on his case if he didn't scurry away as soon as they arrived back at base. running straight towards your working grounds.

he chills out before walking in the room. checking his hair, face, etc, etc. as he's fixing his uniform, you tap on his shoulder, eliciting a jolt from him.

“hey, whatcha’ waiting for?” you ask wondering why he was looking at his reflection in his blacked out phone screen, seemingly about to walk into your room with no one in it.

“oh, y'know, was waiting for you actually, about earlier i was gonna ask you… if you…” he nervously taps his sides with his hands, chuckling a bit; it's not like… not like he liked you! he just likes looking at you, yeah.. that seemed right. definitely.

“if i..?” you question, voice laced with confusion, but you had an idea of what he was attempting to ask.

“if like, you know, wanna go out with me, do whatever, i like going to the gym, if you couldn't tell.” he holds up his arms, muscles prominent but not bulging.

you can't help but stiffle a giggle, whether it was because of his– albeit– childish attempt at impressing you or because of his overall cuteness is up to debate.

“sure, why not, i'll be off at five…ish? later. we can go get dinner or something.”

“yeah! yeah of course, ill stop by later then, count on it.” he winks, as you walk back into your room. when you closed the door he nearly skipped his way back to his own work base.

after this moment you two became surprisingly close, he wasn't the awkward overcompensater from when you first met. he was genuinely funny, and charming too! wow, what a package deal, you think.

–

days passed and the situation with the former president is finally over. you're unsettled with it all and you're on your way to joaquin's hospital room. you're upset he got dragged in so far but you did know it was a part of his job, still it made you soured your mood.

“hey joaquin.. how you doing today?” you walk in, sitting by his bed.

“better, thanks.. for being here.” he tries sitting up, groaning in the process.

“don't, you're gonna hurt yourself more.” your hand falls onto his, almost like natural instinct.

“sorry we haven't.. been able to go out lately. didn't think i'd get shot down from the sky.” he laughs, but with only a hint of humor in his actual tone.

you stare at him for a second, looking at his eyes, examining the damage. “you.. no. don't apologize, you'll get better. i know it.”

“can't wait to get outta here, we should get ice cream. i need something sweet or i might die.”

“hmm, to be fair you did almost die.” you lay your head on your hand, leaning closer to him.

“you're right, so that means we gotta go.” he glances at you, noticing your drowsy reddish eyes.

“mhm. m’ tired. didn't sleep last night.”

“why not?” he looks at you concerned.

“worried about you, haha..” you lean off of your hand, head landing on his lap. he watches as you slowly drift to sleep, still holding his hand, fingers interlocked.

his face is slowly fades into a pink color, and he holds your hand tighter, he falls asleep in this state as well, not wanting anything to ruin this moment between the two of you.

[mannythemunchkin]

ANOTHER HERMES DRABBLE

🔞18+ MDNI🔞

TAGS: teasing, light praise kink, handjob, whining and whimpering Hermes, power bottom(I think?), AFAB!Reader, fem!Reader x Hermes, porn without plot, no beta we die like the crew, overstimulation, begging and pleading, Hermes is whipped.

WORD COUNT: 919

A/N: These demons need to be vanquished, and that can only be done by writing them down. Have some more Hermes filth, lovelies.

ART BY XIMENA NATZEL

“Darling, please...” Hermes whined needily. You were straddling his lap, your fingers threading through his mussed hair, occasionally scratching his scalp lightly, while trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses and gentle love bites all over his collarbone, neck and shoulders. You had been teasing him for almost an hour, your lips and hands never touching where he needed them the most. You wouldn't even deign him a kiss. You had him squirming and writhing beneath you on your couch. Hermes, God of oh so many things, messenger of the Greek Gods, was putty in your hands. A soft hum sounded from you as you slid a hand down to his chest, and you felt the God tense underneath your feather-light touch as you began tracing idle patterns on his pecs and sternum.

“Please… what, baby?” You muttered against the column of his neck. You grabbed the hair at his neck and tugged his head back slightly, earning a breathless moan from him. Hermes eagerly tilted his head back at your tug, desperate for more of your ministrations. He had his hands behind his back, not tied up or anything, just tugged back there between himself and the couch, at your request, and who was he to not give what his lover wanted. It was taking every ounce of restraint and strength in him to not just grab you and pound you into the couch, but you had asked if you could take control for a bit, and oh, was he absolutely loving it. His entire body felt like it was charged with electricity, every little touch you did made his over-sensitized nerves go haywire, sending so many shivers and shudders through him he was practically vibrating.

As Hermes opened his mouth to response, to plead for you to touch him where he wanted, no, needed you the most, you leaned on close and took his lower lip between your teeth, and all that left him was a high pitched whine as he chased your mouth when you leaned back once more. “Please, I need more. I'm aching, darling…” his voice was strained and breathless. You had him pleading, begging, for more. For anything that'd relieve the almost painful ache between his legs. He looked up at you with big, pleasure hazed eyes, his silvery irises almost glowing with raw need and desire. A sweet, wicked smile curved your lips, and you cooed in a slight mocking tone as your hand on his chest began roaming his toned torso, your fingertips brushing ever-so-lightly over his nipples. Hermes sucked in a breath, and for the first time since you began, his hips involuntarily bucked up against your core, eliciting a quiet moan from you and a gravelly groan from himself.

You tutted disapprovingly, tightening your grip in his hair to yank his head back further. The hand you had on his chest moved downwards, your nails scraping lightly over his toned chest and abs before your fingertips teasingly traced the hem of his underwear. “You want it down here? Want me to touch you, give you what you need?” Hermes let out a noise that sounded like a mix of a whimper and a groan, and he nodded eagerly. “Please.”

“Hmm… I guess I'll reward you. You've been so good the whole time. Such a good boy~” You praised him, and your words were rewarded with a string of small whines and whimpers as he kept nodding, his brain short-circuiting from even the slightest of praise. He bucked his hips again, this time deliberately, and he sent you a pleading look. Hermes looked absolutely ravished. His cheeks, neck and chest were all flushed a dark pink, his lips parted while his breath came out in ragged pants, and his eyes were glazed over. You swallowed, and gave him a small nod before shimmying slightly back on his lap to give yourself room to work. You threaded your fingers through his hair, the gesture gentle and sweet, while your other hand tugged his underwear down, freeing his twitching cock from its confines.

You directed your eyes to his cock, your nimble fingers wrapping around it before giving him a trying stroke. The moan that escaped Hermes at the simple flick of your wrist was the most erotic sound you had ever heard, and it was music to your ears. You stroked him again, this time pressing the pad of your thumb down on the slit, smearing the hefty amount of precum that had been leaking out all over the blunt tip, and Hermes let out what sounded like a string of curses in ancient Greek. His cock twitched in your hand, and you raised an eyebrow, a small grin tugging at your lips, and you began stroking him faster and harder. It took all but five or six strokes before a desperate cry rumbled in Hermes’ chest, and he came all over his stomach and your hand, but you didn't stop. Your hand moved at a slightly slower pace, but you kept stroking him, and you had him shuddering beneath your ministrations as pulses of hot cum shot out of his twitching cock.

You were just about to let go of him, when suddenly your world turned around, and you found yourself with your face pressed into the couch cushions and your ass in the air. Hermes positioned himself behind you, and he leaned down, covering your body with his much bigger one, and he groaned quietly next to your ear.

“My turn, darling~”

[captain-huggy-bear]

Jack is one that if you aren’t paying attention to him because you’re cooking or reading. He will literally pout

Oh, yeah, big time! Like you're just making your breakfast, trying to fry an egg and he's sat there pouting because you won't cuddle or kiss him because you're dealing with hot oil, Jack! I'd love to do more of these short drabbles/prompts, especially any like dialogue prompts where people send me a single sentence/word/piece of dialogue and who they want it with like '"You're pretty..." with Luke' type vibes. Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

"Baby..."

"Mmm...." You don't look up from the frying pan, too focused on the egg you're frying for your avocado toast sandwich, trying your best to avoid spitting oil as you cook and trying to get the perfect consistency for your yoke. (Failing miserably because who said you were a great cook?)

"Baby..." He's pouting now, not that you can see it because you're refusing to look at him and this is a fucking crime. He's just sat here and you're so close but you won't even look at him. His bottom lip juts out away from his top, eyes turning sad and pitiful like a puppy. Not that you notice, which makes his pout deeper.

"Yeah?" Still you don't look at Jack, your egg is nearly cooked and you move away to get your toast as it pops out of the toaster, slathering guacamole across both sides and bits of avocado, drizzling sriracha mayo over top.

Jack makes an executive decision, if you won't look at him then he'll just have to make you take notice of him. He picks the exact wrong moment to get up and slide his arms around your waist. The moment when you're transferring your egg to your sandwich and you nearly, nearly drop a boiling hot fried egg on your foot as a result.

"Jack!" You're quick to save the egg, getting it onto your toasted bread before putting the pan and spatula down. Jack's nuzzling into your neck, still pouting because you're more focused on your food than on him and it's not fair, he's been away for a week on a roadie and he's missed you. Didn't you miss him?

"You're ignoring me..."

"Jack, I'm not ignoring you but I need to eat my breakfast, you know how crazy my blood sugar gets..." You try to reason with him, putting the top bread on your sandwich and cutting it in half. He's latched onto you like a limpet on a rock, pressing little kisses to your neck, nose nuzzling against your skin in a way that is far too ticklish.

"You won't even look at me, do you not love me anymore?"

You can't help but laugh at him, turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck. Jack's pouting down at you, but there's a little twinkle in his baby blues that tells you he's messing about and just being silly.

"Of course, I love you, Jackie."

"But not as much as your stupid food." His pout manages to become deeper as he glares over your shoulder at your breakfast.

"I love you more. I promise. C'mere..." You cup his cheeks and smile at the way he melts into your palms, practically nuzzling into your hands as his pout melts away. You drag his face closer, pressing one, two, three kisses to his lips before attempting to pull away from him. You should have known that wasn't going to happen.

"Nooo...." He doesn't let you, hands sliding into your back pockets, cupping your arse and pulling you as close as possible. Jack's busy pressing kisses now to your cheeks and nose and you can't help but giggle, a laugh that puts his pout at rest and makes him smirk because he did that. He made you laugh. You're paying attention to him.

"Jack...I need to eat..." You say it between giggles, face scrunching as he kisses across it, finding any and every spot imaginable.

"But I wanna be close to you, baby..."

"Then I'll eat and sit on your lap, is that enough of a compromise?" You try your best to get him to release you, he takes a moment to think, pretending that the decision is a hard one.

"Okay, but I want kisses after."

"Deal."

[douqhnxtss]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MY GIRL, MY GIRL, MY GIRL ✧˖°.⋆.˚⊹ ࣪ ˖

𝓛𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝘢𝘧𝘢𝘳. 𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚. 𝓣𝒁𝑼𝒀𝑼 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗍, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝓨𝑶𝑼, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌. 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋; 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.

✧ fluff, domestic, drabble, down bad!tzuyu, lots of blushing and giggling and love, not much just two lovers basking in eachothers love and presence, proofread — girlfriend!tzuyu × fem!reader ⋆ wc! 0.61k 𐙚𐙚 pls make do w this tzuyu drabble while I slowly work on redamancy.. soz I'll try my best to get it pit this week and also, I love tzuyu so much, write this for ml @y0ziimisii the tzuyu to my sana hope you like it >_< love ya<33

✧ now playing! — we fell in love in october ♪ girl in red 𐙚

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

THE ESSENCE OF LOVE FLOWED WITH THE SOFT BREEZE. you circled your arm around hers, interwining your fingers in the process. your head rested on tzuyu's shoulder.

"best first anniversary date ever." you said with a soft smile, tilting your head up to look at the taller. she looked at you, her lips parted like she was about to talk.

tzuyu's eyes followed every bump and crevice on your face, your eyes, nose, lips, brows, everything. you let out a little giggle, a soft blush presenting itself on your cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"do i look that pretty?" you asked softly, your teeth holding your bottom lip hostage. her other hand reached up to your face as her thumb gently pulled your lip out of its hold under your teeth.

"you.. you look mind numbingly gorgeous, love." tzuyu whispered in a hushed tone, her lips curving into a lovesick smile. no matter how many times she'd addressed you with the nickname, you never failed to blush.

"thank you, you look beautiful too, tzu." you complimented the taiwanese, her crimson cheeks were harder to see but her ears covered in red gave her away. she looked away for a second before her gaze locked with yours once again.

"thank you so much." she whispered, giving your hand a little squeeze making your heart race. speaking of your heart, it was content. having spent a whole day with the person it cherished most, it couldn't have wished for anything more.

a few minutes passed, you looked away, overwhelmed by her loving gaze. you chose to look at the stars and moon, the only shining objects in the dark canvas that was the night sky.

she didn't look away though, eyes looking at you as if she was carving every detail about you in her mind, "you didn't say you're welcome for the date." you gave her a glance.

she just hummed, realizing she did indeed overlook the statement, "oh, yes. you're welcome, i couldn't be happier." you couldn't help but blush even more, her mere presence was enough to make your stomach do backflips.

"why do you always admire me, even when we're beside eachother?" you asked, looking at her teasingly, tilting your head. tzuyu looked at you for a second too long with her eyes which were drunk in love before she responded.

"you've got me lovestruck, my love. you're also too beautiful and too mine to not be admired by me." your heart skipped a few beats, eyes widening a fraction. you swiped your tongue your bottom lip, "you're... so good at getting me flustered."

she let out a soft giggle. she leaned in to give you a short and sweet kiss before pulling away. tzuyu's grip on your intertwined hand tightened slightly, not enough to hurt you and just enough to give you a reassurance that she's there and grasp your attention at the same time.

you turned to look at her. tzuyu chuckled and began, "obviously i'll be good at getting my girl flustered." she brought your hand up to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt but it didn't matter. all that mattered in the moment was you two and your love for eachother. the world seemed to have shrunk down into just the two of you, time also felt like it had been slowed down, giving you two a chance to just be happy for the stretching night with eachother.

"i love you, tzu." you connected your forehead with hers, never leaving her hand, keeping them intertwined. she pecked you sweetly before whispering, "i love you too and always will, my girl."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ᯓ✦ 𝓊𝗻𝚒𝘷𝐞𝗋𝓢𝙚 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ regulars! @woniefication @shyoko

Douqhnxtss © 23042025 — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. do not edit, translate, repost or plagiarize any of my work !

[jayparked]

well done <33 can i please ask for 68 and hee?

warnings: inexperienced reader, language, f2l, unprotected sex

wc: 569

"i'm sorry...what?" heeseung leans forward, eyebrows knit tightly together in confusion.

"you heard me."

"no! i don't think i did!" scoffing with a nervous chuckle, heeseung stands up from the chair in your room and places both hands on top of his head, pacing back and forth.

"please heeseung i hate being so inexperienced. no one has let me do it before so please just let me do it once. i swear it won't change anything with our friendship."

heeseung can't believe what you're saying, genuinely cannot believe what the hell you are talking to him about. he's been your friend since middle school and now that you're in your second year of college the friendship seems pretty set in stone for life.

"say it again," he mumbles, now turning to face you.

"let me ride you."

"fuck...alright. but you're stupid if you think this won't change anything so i hope you're sure about this." truth is, heeseung has been trying to get over the fact that he's been in love with you since the first day you two met. only recently did he finally feel like he was making progress and even contemplated the idea of seriously pursuing this one person who was dropping major hints they are into him (it's the barista at his college campus. they leave their number on heeseung's cup every single day with cute messages and doodles).

but you just had to ask him this, something he would never be able to refuse.

minutes pass in a blur and suddenly both of your clothes are off and heeseung is laying on his back, on hand behind his head as he tries to get a good look at you without completely ogling.

you get on the bed and straddle his hips, careful not to lower yourself on his hardened cock. you wish you had a few more moments to just stare at it, completely thrown off with the length and girth your best friend has been packing this whole time. the thought of that going inside you is exhilarating and terrifying.

once you look into your best friends eyes though and see all the feelings he's tried to hide all these years, you don't hesitate and take the plunge. the way he stretches your walls has you gasping outloud, having to rock your hips back and forth slightly to try and help the stretch.

"ah...oh yeah, y/n, fuck you're so tight." heeseung's hands are on your waist but his eyes are on your chest. with a quick eyeroll you grab his hands and place them where his eyes were.

"you don't know how many times i've dreamed of this happening," he whispers.

with a laugh you reply with a simple, "me too," your stomach fluttering when you see the shocked look on his face. heeseung opens his mouth to say something, but you're fully sheathed on him now and immediately put your hand on his chest to stable you as you grind your hips against his crotch. all that comes out of heeseung's mouth for the next few moments is a slough of swear words, praises, and "i can't believe we've never done this before"'s. and once he's coming undone underneath you all he can ask is if you can do that again exactly how you did it before, because fuck that felt so good and he needs it tattooed into his memory.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[emeraldserenade]

omg im obsessed with ur writing????

would u be down to write a joaquin torres x gotg!reader?? i think it’d be really cute if reader doesnt know what to make of him since theyve only known the guardians their whole life and arent keen on new people..so joaquin, being joaquin, makes it his mission to break down their walls and show them that they can trust him??

( giggling bc im thinking of the scene in gotg 1 where peter attempts to dance with gamora and she tries to fight him because she didn’t know what he was trying to do )

does that make sense? i am v bad at writing reqs i apologize oh my goodness😭😭😭

Who Doesn't Love Me ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Joaquín is used to everyone loving him from the moment they meet

tw: fem!reader, gotg!reader, reader has a small self deprecation moment, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

I'm obsessed with this idea! A little disappointed I didn't even think of it!! And yes this makes PERFECT sense, I am the queen of nonsensical rambling when I get an idea stuck in my head (my best friend can attest to that). Are you all sick of me writing yet? Probably not, I'm taking hours between posts 💀

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín Torres truly believed everyone was going to love him as soon as they meet him. Not in a cocky way, but in the way that everyone in his life has loved him pretty much as soon as they met him.

Then you came along, you were smart, pretty, capable of getting anything done, and you didn't like him. Ok, you didn't not like him, you just weren't sure about him.

You grew up on Yondu's ship with only the people on it as your social points, you weren't the greatest when it came to new people. You were polite, you smiled at Joaquín and gave him a small wave, but nothing more. You didn't necessarily go out of your away avoid him, you just tried to stay out of his way. You would slink off when he entered a room, you would keep your interactions short, and you would be polite yet short with him in unavoidable conversations.

It drove Joaquín crazy, he couldn't stand the thought of someone, especially you, not liking him. He tried his hardest, he would keep talking to you and seeking you out until you liked him. But it never worked, you kept running from him like he was diseased.

"I just don't get it Sam," Joaquín fell onto the couch of the little lake house everyone was staying in. Your crew's ship outside and broken and unusable until someone came with a replacement piece. "Why won't she talk to me?"

"Have you tried letting her come to you? She's been in space her whole life, she's probably not used to all of this," Sam gestured to around them vaguely.

"You're probably right," Joaquín mumbled and shifted to look at the TV.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín did what Sam said, he let you come to him. And you did, after the third day of Joaquín not coming to you, you started to miss him. You missed his stupid jokes, his attempts to include you, and his voice. You missed his goddamn voice and face, and you hated it.

"And then boom!" Peter was telling a dramatized version of some events.

"That's not what happened, he was too busy staring at Gamora," you muttered under your breath, not thinking anyone was listening to you. But you were wrong, Joaquín was and he let out a quiet laugh at your words.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Your relationship with Joaquín changed from that moment, you would spent more time with him and got more comfortable with being around him. You were in the room he was staying in as he was putting his laundry away, his music was playing. In a language he said was Spanish, one of the many spoken on Earth. Joaquín extended his hand out to you and you gently took it, confused.

"Dance with me," Joaquín told you and you tilted your head.

"Dance?" You questioned.

"You do now how to dance?"

"I don't know what dance is," you muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

"I'll teach you," he told you, his voice soft. He moved one of his hands to your waist and you took a step back ready to fight him. "You need to trust me," his voice was quieter but you nodded, letting him grab your waist gently and pull you closer to him again. You may not know how to dance, but you could tell that you were moving too slow for the song. Joaquín guided you to sway side to side with him, both of his hands on your waist while yours were locked behind his neck.

"This is how you dance?" You made eye contact with Joaquín, uncertainty dancing in your eyes.

"With someone you like, yeah," Joaquín felt the wave of confidence he had wash away when your eyebrows furrowed and you stopped moving for a moment.

"You like me?" It came out more self deprecating than you wanted it to, but you couldn't take it back now.

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

"I'm from space, I know I'm a little weird," you said it like it was an end all be all.

"I'm from Florida, I'm used to weird," you scrunched your eyebrows again.

"Florida?"

"I've got a lot to teach you, mi vida," Joaquín gently laughed as he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Does that mean you actually like me?" Joaquín could see the hopefulness dance across your face.

"Yeah, it does," Joaquín affirmed and you smiled at him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Ready to go?" Nebula grabbed your arm but you just stood there, your expression neutral as you stared at Joaquín standing there waving at you.

"I," you looked away from Joaquín and towards your friends, your family. "I think I want to stay," you muttered, looking down at the ground beneath your feet.

"We know," Peter gave you a small smile and you whipped your head up to look at him.

"What?" You all but shrieked.

"We see the way you look at the bird boy," Mantis informed you. "I can feel the love radiating from the two of you," she continued.

"You're not mad?" You questioned and they all shook their head.

"Stay safe, kid. We'll come visit," Rocket gave your leg a hug and you smile down at him. You said your goodbyes to your family before stepping back to stand with Joaquín, his arm wrapping around your waist as soon as he could.

"Think you're ready to learn some more?" Joaquín asked, trying to ease the tension in your shoulders.

"Can I pick what I learn first?" You questioned, fighting off the smirk threatening to take over your face.

"Sure, go ahead," Joaquín smiled at you. You said nothing as you kissed him, it was a quick peck on his lips but it lingered long enough for him to process it.

"Think you can teach me how to improve my skills?" You tilted your head as you spoke, your smirk finally breaking free. Joaquín had a smirk of his own before pulling you to him by the waist, your lips meeting in the middle.

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Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[cherry-burst]

Caleb x MC "Say Thank You"

Smut 🔞 LADS | Riding his boot | MC is subby | Dommy Caleb kinda

Short drabble

Sum: Caleb comes home with brand new boots for his colonel uniform. Something something making you rub your pussy on them until you cum.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He watches from where he stands with a smirk. His arms are crossed as he waits "So eager to cum on my new boots. Look how fast your rocking your hips. You look so desperate."

The full colonel uniform along with the hat gave him such commanding air even in the privacy of his own living room.

He was rock hard, straining against his uniform trousers. But the man had years worth of practice having patience. His turn can wait.

"Why don't you thank me for being so generous with my boot?" He says, reaching down to grip your hair. He forces you to look up at him.

You huff, already so close to sweet release. You're naked save for the panties you wear. They're thin and completely soaked at this point. The laces of his boot act as the perfect bumpy surface to rub against your clit to get that sweet sweet friction. "Thank you," you grit out.

"Yeah?" He askes, gripping your hair tighter.

You hug his leg for support "Yeah, yeah! Thank you!" You're breathless as the build up escalates.

His phone rings and you freeze when he slips it out of his pocket to answer. Before he answers, he wiggles his foot that your humping to get you to move again. "I didn't say to stop, pips."

His smirk is diabolical as you start rubbing your pussy on his boot again, huffing with frustration at his antics.

"This is Caleb." He answers the phone in his usual upbeat tone thats dripping with charisma. The same voice that made him so popular at school growing up.

You bite your tongue to keep from moaning so whoever was on the phone couldn't hear. You rubbed your tits against his leg to gain extra friction. The sensation delicious on your sensitive nipples. You allowed yourself a sigh.

You close your eyes to savor the sensations but Caleb's grip on your hair made you open them again.

"Eyes on me," He says in a low voice "Oh, nothing. What were you saying?" He speaks to the person on the line.

"Hang up!" You whisper-sceam at him.

"What?" He mouths, a teasing twinkle in his eye.

"Hang the fuck UP!" You whisper louder.

"Hmm," He hums into the receiver, a filler word to keep the conversation moving.

His shoe was so slick now, extremely easy to grind on thanks to how insanely wet you were. You were practically sliding back and forth 2 x speed with how eager you were.

"Let me write that down." He says, his eyes never leaving the sight of you literally fucking yourself on his goddamn boot.

"Hang up!" You mouth again.

He shakes his head 'no', scoffing with an expresssion on his face like thats the silliest thing you've ever said.

"Caleb!" You whine his name, but it's more of a moan. It was a little too loud, honestly. The person on the phone must be very polite not to say anything if they heard.

"Of course you can," He continues his conversation.

You scowl at him. Finally, an evil plan buds in your mind. You reach up with newfound purpose and palm his cock through his pants.

Caleb immediately has to stifle a moan, covering it by clearing his throat.

"Piiips," He whisper warns.

You squeeze again, rubbing him deliciously. God, he was so big, thick, and so fucking hard. Your body throbbed with the memory of how it felt filling you up.

He pulls the phone away just in time and moans at your groping.

"I wont stop until you hang up!" You warn, giving him another squeeze.

He nods, conceding. "I-ah. I'm sorry, I gotta go." His breathing is heavy. "No, yeah. I'll call you back later." He says, hanging up before they respond. "Now you've done it." His voice is a low warning. But the smirk on his face alleviates the threat. His hand in your hair pulls to make you look up at him again at a harsher angle.

You gasp, you're so close to orgasming that your ears start to ring. You keep rubbing him through his pants, listening to him breathe heavier.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and gets down on one knee. His other foot going back to keep him steady. He's so close now you can feel his breath on your face.

"Are you gonna cum?" He asks. His pupils are blown wide. "Or are you having too much fun ruining my new shoe that you don't want to just yet?" He gripped the back of your head, making you unable to look anywhere else.

"I'm close," You pant out pathetically. A sheen of sweat coats your skin.

He nods in understanding. "I know what will help."

His hand glides down your chest. His large palm cups your breast and rubs slow circles over your nipple.

You whine at the added sensation.

"Look at you, fucking my boot." The last three words are drawn out. "And here I thought I was the pent up one." His tone is low and even.

He flicks at your nipple and you whimper. He pinches it between two fingers and rolls it between them.

Your clit hits each row of shoelaces, going all the way up and all the way back. It was a delicious sensation with the added benefit of Caleb playing with your tits.

The orgasm hit like a tidal wave, the rush of pleasure and endorphins racing through your veins. You moaned, rubbing your pussy on his boot hard for that sweet sweet friction. You throbbed, rocking and rocking your hips until the waves subsided.

Caleb looked you up and down. "Such a mess, and I just bought these too." He stated, as if he actually even gave a single fuck about them.

You finally slid off his boot and back onto the carpet. Your breaths were ragged, coming fast. Air hit the wet patch on your panties, causing a cooling sensation.

Caleb's brows furrowed. "Don't be rude. You should thank my shoe for making your pussy feel so good, don't you think?"

You looked at him indignantly, your body still aching from the aftershocks.

He cocked a brow. "I know my girl can be more grateful than that. Go on." He nodded to his boot.

You slowly knelt infront of his soaking wet boot, your scent permitting the air. You eyed him, but he showed only made a gesture for you to keep going.

Fine, you'd play his game. You kissed his boot "Thank you,"

"Thats more like it." Caleb praised.

You looked at him for a long moment.

"Well? You don't sound all that grateful yet. Maybe this is the one and only time I'll ever allow this." He shrugged.

Fuck that. Riding his boot was a bliss you'd never known. You huff, kissing the shoe again "Thank you," You kiss again. Your own slick coating your lips "Thank you so much,"

"Fooor?" Caleb's browse rose expectantly.

You whimpered. How were you still so turned on?

"Thank you for making my pussy feel so good." You kiss up the shoe laces. Okay, damn. Maybe you were actually grateful. Those shoelaces were the best part. "Thank you so so much" Your voice was low as you spoke.

"Who else should you thank?" Caleb asked.

So the game was continuing? Okay. You racked your brain then remembered his fingers teasing you.

You reached out for the hand he used on your nipples and you kissed his finger tip "Thank you," you whispered, your eyes meeting Calebs hot stare. "...For helping me cum so hard."

Caleb nods his appoval, heat blooming on his cheeks.

"And," You say, making Calebs eyes go wide. He wasn't expecting something else.

"And, what?" He asks curiously.

You lean in and kiss his soft lips. "Thank you,"

He groaned into the kiss, pulling you into his lap as he sat on the floor.

.

.

Thanks for reading ❤️ Maybe I'll actually write this as a real fic one day. But, for now, I just had to get this out of my system

[solsticehymns]

green light: drabble

james potter x f!reader / ANGST / post-breakup / muggle + modern au

But honey, I'll be seeing you 'ever I go / But honey, I'll be seeing you down every road / I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it

summary: Breakups are messy. James is handling his the usual way—too many drinks, meaningless flirting, pretending he’s fine. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t outrun the ghost of you.

a/n: WHEWWWW this hurt to write!!! i love making myself cry it's so fun!!! i rly rly love this song too 10/10 no notes breakup song. perfectly captures the emotion, that was the driving factor for me writing this story and. yeah i think i did that. lol i hope you like it! sunny ☀️🌻

wc: 881

“Look at him. He’s completely full of it.”

“Mm,” Remus hums, swirling his drink, watching James over the rim of his glass. “Acting like he’s moved on, but let’s be honest—he’s barely holding it together.”

“You do realize I can hear you, yeah?” James cuts in, raising a brow.

“Oh, we know.” Sirius smirks. “But are you really listening?”

James exhales sharply, tipping his drink back in one go. “Honestly, I’m doing great,” He gestures around with a too-easy grin. “Night out with the lads, no worries, no heartbreak, just good, old-fashioned fun.”

“Right,” Remus deadpans. “That’s why you’re on your fourth drink and eyeing the exit.”

James places a hand over his chest, mock-wounded. “Moony, you cut me deep. I am simply embracing life, taking full advantage of my single era—”

“Spiraling,” Sirius corrects, taking a lazy sip of his drink.

“Thriving,” James counters, flashing a grin before spinning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd.

They watch him go, exchanging a glance that says they’ve seen this before.

James throws himself into the night, into everything. The flirtations, the drinks, the movement, the easy, messy, meaningless fun. He catches a girl wearing a too-short red dress on the dance floor when she stumbles into him, laughing like he’s got nothing but time and charm to waste.

At the bar, he leans in, voice a deliberate murmur: "You look way too good to be standing here without a drink in your hand—what are we having?"

This girl isn’t the first tonight, and she won’t be the last. He’s lost track of the faces, the fleeting conversations, the way he keeps chasing something easy, something temporary, something that doesn’t necessitate anything real.

She barely humors him. Rolls her eyes, mutters something about trying harder than that, and turns away before he even has the chance to smirk.

James just grins, tossing back the rest of his drink. It’s fine. It’s all a game anyway. It’s easy. It’s working.

Until it isn’t.

A tap on his shoulder.

For a moment—a single, breathless moment—he doesn’t prepare for disappointment. He lets himself believe. Lets himself imagine that if he turns, it will be you. That you will be standing there, looking at him like you used to, as if nothing ever broke, as if he is still yours and you are still his.

He turns.

It isn’t you.

The illusion shatters, and the weight of it crushes him in an instant. The music swells, too loud, pressing against his skull, and suddenly, you are everywhere.

Someone’s perfume lingers in the air, close enough to yours that his breath catches, but wrong enough to leave his chest hollow. The way a girl tosses her hair reminds him of you at a café, head tilted, laughing at something he said, light catching in your eyes. A song hums through the speakers in the pub—he doesn’t know the name, but he remembers you humming it, curled up on his couch, absentminded, effortless. His glass is slick with condensation, and somehow, it takes him back to you pressing a bottle of water into his palm on a sweltering afternoon, your fingers brushing his like it was nothing, like you had all the time in the world.

But time ran out. And now, everywhere he looks, you’re there, except you aren’t.

Instead, there is only this girl with bright eyes and an overeager smile, beguiled by him in a way that should be flattering.

But she is wrong. The way she looks at him is wrong. The way she says, “Hey,” is wrong.

James blinks, swallowing hard. Her words blur beneath the realization—this is what moving on is supposed to look like.

This is the part where he’s meant to forget you, replace you, smile and flirt and give someone new the pieces of himself that you’d left behind.

But nothing about this fits. The music is too loud. The air is too thick. His drink is suddenly too warm in his hand, the ice already melted.

“James,” he says, an automated response, but it doesn’t sound like his own name.

She asks him something—where he’s from, what he does, an inconsequential question—but he barely hears her, far too caught up in the realization that it will never be you again. That he will turn and find her instead of you every time. And there is no getting used to that.

His jaw tightens. He exhales, forced and uneven. “Sorry—I should get back to my friends.”

He doesn’t wait for her response. He’s afraid to turn again, terrified of seeing another phantom you standing there.

At the bar, Remus and Sirius watch his return, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands shove into his pockets as if he’s holding himself together by force.

“Not interested?” Remus asks, though they already know the answer.

James snorts, grabbing another drink. “Nah,” he mutters.

He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to.

He stares down at his drink, turning the glass between his fingers, and considers it—just for a second. Pulling out his phone, typing something short, something he might regret in the morning. Something like, I miss you. Come get your things. Tell me this isn’t really over.

But it’s no use. He can already see the future.

Hope, turn, break.

☀️🌻 masterlist

[m00nkissedlover]

Hi! Can you write a Regulus and fem potter! reader raises four year old harry after his parents are killed?

・｡Little Rabbit 🐰

You've ordered: vanilla ice cream! enjoy!

"I'll be the only dream you seek."

post Hogwarts! Regulus Black x fem! Potter! reader | word count: 925 words

Summary: after your four year old nephew comes to you for comfort after a nightmare, regulus questions whether he's still capable of being a father.🐰

Warnings: not really a warning, but reader is james's sister. in this, regulus doesn't become a death eater. no real warnings, basically just domestic fluff!

Note: hi anon! tysm for this request, it was really fun to write! ☺️ i hope i did your request justice and i hope you like this short little drabble :)

The feeling of tiny hands shaking your shoulder broke you out of your dreamlike trace of sleep at what seemed like...5:00 am. You rubbed your eyes, turning on the lamp on your bedside table, your vision slowly adjusting to the dim light and making out the small figure on your bed.

"Harry? Sweetie, what's wrong?" you murmured, your voice groggy with sleep. Harry, your four year old nephew, sat at the edge of your bed. He was clutching a stuffed rabbit plush you had bought him, his bright green eyes wet with tears, a bit of snot dripping from his nose.

"I-I had a nightmare..." the poor boy sobbed, clutching the rabbit closer to his chest. You felt a pang of sadness through your heart, grabbing a tissue from your bedside table and holding it to him nose. He blew his nose into it, sniffling as you wiped his tears with another one.

"Can I sleep with you two tonight?" You obviously couldn't say no, your heart going out to the four year old. It had been 4 years now since he lost his parents and was put under you and Regulus's care. Speaking of Regulus...just where was he?

Oh, that's right, he was sleeping next to you, groggily blinking his eyes as the sound of Harry's sobbing woke him.

"Hey, what happened?" he asked, his voice a little gruff. He scooted over to sit next to you, watching as you pulled Harry into your lap.

"He had a nightmare again." you muttered, holding the small boy to your chest and gently stroking his hair. "Aw, no. Want me to do the thing, bub?" Regulus asked, playfully poking Harry's cheek.

The little boy giggled softly, sniffling and nodding his head. Regulus got out of bed and padded over to the closet, rummaging through it and pulling out his wand. He closed his eyes for a moment, walking back over to the bed and taking Harry's rabbit plush. He set it down on the bed, raising his wand and muttering a spell he'd used countless times before.

Upon casting the spell, the little rabbit plush seemed to come to life, lifting its head and wiggling its ears. Regulus pointed to Harry, the rabbit facing the little boy before it started to do a silly little dance.

"Look, Harry! He's doing a different one this time." you hummed, Harry's crying subsiding. He clapped his tiny hands, a laugh that could put a smile on anyone's face leaving him. Regulus waved his wand once again and the rabbit plush walked up you Harry, crawling up his body and giving him a hug, its face in the crook of his neck.

"Aw, how sweet." you sighed, glancing from the heartwarming scene to your husband who was making his way back into bed. "Feeling better, Harry?" Regulus asked, Harry nodding his head a squeezing the rabbit.

"Thank you, papa Regulus." Regulus felt a surge of warmth run through him at the sound of Harry calling him "papa." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the boy's cheek, ruffling his hair.

"You're welcome, bud. Now come on. It's time to get some sleep."

Harry was now curled up between the two of you, rabbit plush clutched to his chest. He looked so peaceful as he slept, like he didn't have a care in the world (which he probably didn't). You gently caressed his cheek, glancing over at Regulus who seemed to still be hung up on Harry calling him "papa."

You reached out and squeezed his hand, his attention now turning to you. "James...He would be beyond proud of you for stepping up and taking care of his son. I swear on Merlin's name that James and Lily are smiling down on you right now."

Regulus let out a sigh, squeezing your hand in return. "I know, I just...I don't want it to look like I'm trying to replace him, you know? He was a really great friend and an amazing person, I-"

You cut Regulus off by leaning over and pressing a kiss to lips, just a small one. The two of you carefully moved and got out of bed as to not disturb Harry as he slept. You walked out into the hallway of your cozy cottage, cupping Regulus's face in your hands. "Reg, no one thinks you're replacing James. Just think about it; if we had a child and something, god forbid, happened to us, do you think James and Lily would do the same for us? Absolutely, in a heartbeat." you said, resting your forehead against his.

"He loved you, Reg. He probably trusted you more than any of the others. I know that if he could, he could tell you take care of Harry." Your words stirred something within Regulus, the dark haired male's eyes getting watery.

You wrapped your arms around him, his own arms immediately returning the hug. "He'd think I'm a good father to his son?" you heard him mumble, his voice cracking a bit.

"He'd think you're a wonderful father to his son." you reassured him, rubbing his back and stroking his hair.

After a while, you two made your way back into the bedroom, getting into bed and laying back. You pressed a soft kiss to Harry's head, Regulus doing the same before giving you a quick kiss.

"Good night." he whispered, intertwining your fingers underneath the duvet.

"Good night." You squeezed his hand back, smiling to yourself as your head hit your pillow and sleep finally took over.🐰

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